


Please don’t confront me with my failures, I have not forgotten them

by last7



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bathing/Washing, Character Study, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Operation Pitfall (Pacific Rim), Running Away, but the dream team is still together, pitfall was a failure and now everything is shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 12:29:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8102425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/last7/pseuds/last7
Summary: "She and Raleigh emerged from the Pacific alive but since then she found herself wondering frequently if it wouldn’t have been better if she had stayed down there. After the immediate relief of reviving him she felt the heaviness of failure sink into the pit of her stomach and spread to her extremities.......The Kaiju would probably come back and finish what they started before she was able to be at peace with herself...“I’m not going anywhere,” murmured Raleigh. It was said so quietly she would have missed it in her doubtful thoughts if she didn't feel his throat hum with the words." Mako and Raleigh are forced to run for their lives when Kaiju cultists come looking for them. In hiding, Mako, with help from Raleigh, accepts that she needs to move on from blaming herself for Operation Pitfall's failure.





	

It killed Mako every day knowing that Stacker Pentecost died for nothing. 

She and Raleigh emerged from the Pacific alive but since then she found herself wondering frequently if it wouldn’t have been better if she had stayed down there. After the immediate relief of reviving him she felt the heaviness of failure sink into the pit of her stomach and spread to her extremities. They had detonated too early, destroying Danger and any hope of closing the Breach for good. The PPDC had put everything into this final push and now it had no Jaegers, no money, and no support.

Public sentiment turned against the Jaeger Program quickly and brutally, with Mako and Raleigh bearing the brunt of the blame and the condemnation; after all, they were the easy and obvious targets. 

They weathered the furore in the Hong Kong Shatterdome until the media forgot about them. The twenty-four hour news channels turned their attention to the streets. Without anything to hang their hopes on (countries had virtually bankrupted themselves funnelling money into the failed Wall of Life and the Jaeger Program) the world was turning into chaos, tearing itself apart worse than before the idea of giant robots saved them all for a time. The Kaiju could come surging from the sea at any moment and there was absolutely no defence. Their Armageddon had come and gone and now they were sitting ducks waiting for their necks to be wrung.

Out of the religious fanatics, the group devoted to BuenaKai acquired the most power and popularity, preying on the fearful and the desperate, which were not hard to come by in the present state of affairs. In their relentless mission for persecution in service of their saviours, the Kaiju cultists returned focus on Mako and Raleigh, literally demanding their heads. They had no choice but to run. Even the thick walls of the Shatterdome couldn’t hold back the angry tide. 

Mako watched the news report in their grubby hotel room. The rush of people carrying fire and rudimentary weapons became a blur to her tired eyes. Her eyelids drifted closed on the scrolling band of words reiterating that the Shatterdome was destroyed after being trashed and firebombed. She snapped awake when she heard the door open and close. The brief moment of panic dissipated when Raleigh walked into the room carrying food and supplies.

He dumped the bags onto a table and sunk onto the bed beside her in time to catch a cultist speak to the reporter. There was something in the eyes that disturbed her; a hate and a dangerous zealotry that she felt searching for her even through the television screen. 

“Turn it off,” she said suddenly. She couldn’t bear it anymore. Raleigh reached for the remote.

She had travelled between the Pacific’s Shatterdomes so frequently in her childhood that she grew wise not to become too attached to one place, but Hong Kong was different. It was there she met Raleigh and fulfilled a lifelong desire to step into a drivesuit and pilot a Jaeger. It was also the home of her greatest failure. If she let herself dwell on it too long the shame of it crumpled her and she had to lie down. 

“It was lucky we got some forewarning,” said Raleigh grimly.

They had sheltered from the media’s gaze and the occasional small group seeking retribution in the huge Shatterdome. The PPDC staff was downsized so dramatically manning the gates was impossible, so they relied on the Shatterdome’s size and bulk to protect themselves. Effectively, they were under siege. And when the cultists brought their blistering rhetoric to bear on the remaining PPDC Herc had only enough time to give them an address in Shenzhen before he was also forced to flee. Now here they were, holed up in a small, decrepit hotel room. They were safe for the moment but they couldn’t be complacent. The cultists was resourceful.

“I wonder where Herc is now,” she said.

“He’s gonna be alright, he’s got connections,” replied Raleigh. He sorted through the shopping and held up hair dye and a pair of scissors. “If we’re gonna make it we have to start looking different.”

She nodded in agreement. Their images were well circulated when they defeated Otachi and Leatherback and the same happened when the media hounded them after Pitfall. The cultists’ campaign was another level of intensity entirely; their faces stared out from wanted posters, flyers handed out on every street corner, and even television advertisements bought out in ten second slots. The point was they were too recognisable. Raleigh hid his face with a baseball cap when he went out for supplies but they couldn’t rely on hats all the time. The odd sight of a tall, blond white guy travelling with an Asian woman sporting a chin-length bob and blue highlights in China was all too conspicuous.

“I couldn't find any bleach so we'll just have to cut your hair,” said Raleigh, as he headed to their bathroom.

“Cut my hair?” She had agreed without thinking properly of what changing their appearance would mean for her. 

“Yeah, otherwise how will you change your look?”

She fingered a lock of blue and sighed.

“You're right.”

She wasn't vain and she didn't mind cutting her already short hair shorter, it was the blue tips she was going to miss.

Raleigh came back out and sat beside her, close enough for their thighs to touch. His warmth chased away a little of her gloominess. A reliable and comforting presence since Pitfall, he knew when to give her space, a gentle reminder of her worth, or a shoulder to lean on. She wasn’t always responsive. In fact, she had spent a lot of her days sleeping because she couldn’t bear to face the looks of profound disappointment and the closure of the Shatterdome.

At this moment, Raleigh simply sat with her quietly. He sensed that she needed some time to come to terms with parting from her blue highlights. He knew her history. 

“I'll go first,” he offered. “Wanna help?”

“Okay,” she said, smiling weakly. She tried to lighten the mood. “You're going for a drastic change. How do you feel about going from a signature blond to a sultry brunette?” She pretended to hold a microphone to his face.

“I've got a good feeling about it. You know what they say, ‘blondes have more fun but brunettes do it better’, right?” he said lasciviously, and tipped her a huge, greasy wink.

Something pushed them over the edge and they laughed for what felt like ages, rolling around on the bed breathless with giggles and tears spouting from their eyes. It was absurd, it wasn’t even very funny but the exhaustion and stress of their current situation must have triggered a delirious reaction.

Their laughter subsided and into the silence that fell, Mako said flatly, “It’s my fault.”

Lying on the bed on her back, she imagined her words flying upwards with her breath, then come floating back down to settle over her heart, burrowing into it to make a home there. It wasn’t enough that she lived with the failure constantly, she had to say it aloud once in a while as a form of self-inflicted punishment, so she would never forget.

She heard the rustle of sheets as Raleigh turned his head to look at her, and another rustle before she felt his hand grip hers tightly to pull her bodily to her feet.

“Are you gonna help me or not?” he said, and led her into the bathroom.

He nattered on about how he had never coloured his hair before and lamented about his poor Chinese, wishing he had learnt some basics so he could read the instructions on the dye box. He was giving her time to pull herself back together. The first time she had said those words he did everything he could think of to persuade her it wasn’t true, but to no avail. Every time after that, she could feel those soft hazel eyes resting on her and every time she could never fully meet them.

“You better do it for me,” said Raleigh. He handed her the gloves and dye and stripped off his sweater, leaving his tank on. “You’re the expert, Mako.”

She lightly pushed him down to sit on the edge of the bathtub, her hands resting on his broad shoulders. He looked up at her and she down at him, thinking that this man before her was the most earnest person she knew, one who was devoted to her though she didn’t deserve it, especially after recent events. He wrapped his arms around her thighs, letting his forehead fall onto her stomach, and she instinctively brought her hands up to cradle his head, strands of blond hair peeking through her fingers. 

She never thought she would come to depend on a person so much as she does with him. Before, Stacker Pentecost was there but she didn’t rely on anybody to achieve her goals, and now, if Raleigh were to leave her she didn’t know what she would do.

“C’mon,” she said, and pulled gently away to fetch a towel to cover his shoulders. He kept his hands to himself as she applied the dye and when she was done he opened his eyes slowly like he missed the feeling of her hands running through his hair.

They ate a little food and watched an innocuous movie while they waited for the dye to set. She didn’t mean to but she fell asleep and woke up with a start to the sound of a dark-haired man calling her name. 

“It’s okay, it’s just me,” reassured Raleigh. She had meant to help him rinse his hair but it seemed she was out long enough that he did it himself. His golden locks were now a dark brown that was almost black.

“You look so… different,” she muttered, her voice still groggy from her nap. 

“Yeah, it’s gonna get some getting used to,” he said, unconsciously tugging at it. He paused. “You were doing it again.”

She nodded wearily in acknowledgment. She had a tendency to sleep a lot but more often than not it was interrupted by bad dreams which would leave her heavy-limbed and more tired than when she went into it. Sometimes she would wake up to her own cries; a sign that the dream was a particularly unpleasant one. She usually didn’t remember them but by now she knew that her guilt-plagued mind would pick from a revolving door of about a handful to torment her.

“Let’s just get this over with,” she said.

She took Raleigh’s place on the bathtub edge as he stepped into it, holding the pair of scissors.

“Are you sure?” he asked from behind her. He sounded as nervous as she was feeling.

Drawing a deep breath, she nodded again and waited with her eyes squeezed shut.

She involuntarily gasped at the first snip and Raleigh immediately stopped.

“Go on,” she quickly said, not wanting this to take longer than was necessary.

The back of her neck tingled with the hair that was cut loose and she gripped the porcelain of her seat tightly so she wouldn’t make any more noises. Concentrating on remaining silent kept her mind from wandering to something she was determined not to think about just now.

“Alright,” said Raleigh softly.

She cracked her eyes open and saw him looking concernedly at her. Out of habit, she made to tuck her hair behind her ear but found nothing to tuck, couldn’t see blue tips swinging in front of her face when she shook her head, and it made her feel oddly deprived.

“I think I should give it a rinse to get the stray bits out,” he suggested. “Do you want me to wash it too?”

She nodded slowly, not really paying attention to what he was saying but watched him bustle about gathering shampoo and towels. He knelt beside the tub and pulled her down next to him, guiding her head over the edge. She gave no resistance. A distant part of her brain assessed that she probably had mild shock.

Face down, she watched strands of black and blue float towards the drain as Raleigh turned on the warm water. His hands were gentle and soothing on her scalp but the memory she was trying so hard not to relive resurfaced, unbidden, and she slumped against the tub with the image of her father in her mind’s eye. 

She was a sixteen year old, eager with hope and  _ vengeance _ , sitting still in her room in the Lima Shatterdome, watching her father comb blue dye into her hair. She wanted to laugh at how he looked frowning with concentration. She thought he would disapprove when she sought his permission but instead he had offered to lend her a hand after she had given him her reasons. They had only known each other three short years but his face was already as familiar, and perhaps even more vivid, to her as the parents’ she lost. When she closed her eyes and tried to remember them she couldn’t quite recall how her mother’s eyes were set or how deep her father’s laugh lines had been. They were fading but Stacker Pentecost was filling up the spaces they left with his golden light. When the job was finished, she stood proud and content as he cast a critical eye over her new tresses and curtly nodded his approval. A sneaky wink elicited a giggle from her and then he turned around and stepped out her door.

“Mako?” said Raleigh. He stopped sluicing water over her head when he heard a particularly loud sob and placed an enquiring hand over her wet neck.

Allowing herself that memory of her father opened her emotional floodgates and she couldn’t stop herself from crying into her hands, salty tears mixing with fresh water.

“Mako, I’m here.”

This caused her whole body, still leaning over the bathtub, to wrack with sobs. That was the problem. She loved her father, she had failed him and humanity, and here Raleigh was washing her hair with such tenderness that it sent her into a fresh wave of despair. 

“Mako, talk to me,” he implored. She felt him kiss the back of her neck. “Please.”

Still dripping, and sniffling, she sank to her haunches next to him.

“Why are you here?” she said, hardly audible, not looking at him.

“What?”

She raised her head to look into his beloved face.

“Why are you here?” she said again, this time louder and she didn’t care if she sounded desperate.

His look of confusion cleared.

“I love you,” he said without hesitation.

She looked away and bit her lip. Her chin wobbled trying to keep away another onslaught of tears.

“I don’t deserve you,” she said shakily. “This is all my f-”

“It’s not your fault!”

The ferocity of his tone startled her.

“The Kaiju -  _ they _ are the fuckers that turned the world to shit, not you! You think you can take all the blame but you can't, I was in that conn-pod too. It's on both of us.” Raleigh’s voice rang against the walls of the small bathroom but then he lowered it, a timid almost-whisper. “I let you down… Do you hate me for it?”

“Raleigh… I could never.” 

He sighed, with something like relief, and reached for her hands. They were still wet. How could he think such a thing? Her heart filled with shame as she watched him kiss her palms. Did she get so caught up in herself that she didn’t see what Raleigh was struggling with?

“There's nothing we can do to change what happened. We have to get past it. You can't go on feeling like this forever.” Pressing their foreheads together, he looked her in the eye and appealed to her with a quiet fierceness, “Please, Mako, forgive yourself.”

The bustle of Shenzhen filtered through the thin walls while she processed what he was asking of her. The Kaiju would probably come back and finish what they started before she was able to be at peace with herself.

Listening to each other's breathing, they clung to each other on the cold tile of the bathroom. Raleigh’s touch was always comforting but the sound of his heartbeat gave her clarity of mind. She pressed herself closer into his neck to listen to it, breathing him in.

“I’m not going anywhere,” murmured Raleigh. It was said so quietly she would have missed it in her doubtful thoughts if she didn't feel his throat hum with the words.

There he goes again. He was going to be by her side till the end of the world, in the most literal sense. Her eyes welled up again, this time with love and gratitude. She cried too easily these days. He pressed a kiss to the bare skin at the place where neck became shoulder and her tears eased enough to finally give him an answer.

“I’ll try,” she said in as strong a voice as she could muster in that moment. She would do it for Raleigh as much as for herself. But she needed him to do something as well. “Promise me you’ll forgive yourself too?”

He chuckled softly but replied completely seriously, “I promise, Mako.”

-

Later, lying behind Raleigh with her knees against his, she studied the shape of his ear in the strip of moonlight that evaded the curtains. He had attached earlobes - she had never noticed that. 

In a reversal of habit, she couldn’t sleep. 

She ran a hand through her choppy hair. It was only slightly longer than Raleigh’s now, with nearly the same colour. She used to spot him in a crowd by the shock of gold bobbing at the top his six foot one frame. If they were to stay in Asia his height would become a problem eventually; he could still be easily identified by it. They would have to move in the next day or two.

The grimness of their situation swept over her again and she fumbled under the blanket to find Raleigh’s hand. He always slept shirtless and she cursed him for it when it was summer but it was the midst of winter and she shuffled closer to press her cheek against his bare back.

“ _ Ai shiteru _ .” 

She didn’t like to say it often, if at all, but it seemed safe in the darkness with him sound asleep. 

The hand in hers unexpectedly gave her fingers a light squeeze. She smiled and closed her eyes.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The name of this story is taken from Nico's "These Days".


End file.
